


fifty-two pickup

by autumnstwilight (sewohayami)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Card Games, Fade to Black, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, One Shot, Post-Episode Ignis Verse 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:20:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24072067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sewohayami/pseuds/autumnstwilight
Summary: The two of them often played card games, but rarely finished them.
Relationships: Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38
Collections: The Ignoct Indoor Gift Exchange





	fifty-two pickup

**Author's Note:**

  * For [denilmo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/denilmo/gifts).



> For a prompt about Ignoct getting distracted during a game and breaking away for kisses, or using a kiss to cheat at a game.
> 
> I hope this take on the idea works for you!

Dust has settled over the floorboards of the house at Caem, and even the quiet footfalls of Ignis’s entrance are enough to stir it. The shaft of sun that falls across the room through the open door is filled with buzzing pinpoints of light. When Noctis flicks the light switch, nothing happens, he glances up to see an empty socket on the ceiling.

“Long gone, I’d imagine,” murmurs Ignis.

“Maybe we can borrow one from outside,” Noctis says with a grin. Racks of daemon-warding lights remain on the roof, though it’s been close to a year since they were last needed.

“I’ll let you do the honors, then,” Ignis replies, setting their supplies down on the counter and retrieving a broom from the closet. Noctis carries their luggage up to the bedroom, then wanders back outdoors, to where the midday sun glints off the roof. He sizes up the distance and warps, landing neatly on the tiles, and picks his way through the cables and supports. It seems that anything and everything was commandeered to provide protection, among the floodlights are smaller fixtures scavenged from indoors. He unscrews a few bulbs that look promising, warps back to ground level, and heads inside.

By the time the sun is setting, they’ve made the place livable, albeit ten years more run down than it had been the last time he saw it, and it was a fixer-upper then. At least the Glaive and Hunters kept the generator maintained and the walls from falling in, but the paint is stained and peeling, floorboards creaky and scuffed. Despite Ignis’s intent scrubbing, the kitchen remains water-marked, but a slow cooker sits on the counter, the herb-coated garula brisket inside releasing an enticing scent.

“When are the others getting here again?”

“Gladio intends to arrive tomorrow afternoon. Prompto says he’s handling a situation at the garage, I believe he’ll tell us when he sets off.”

“Just us for tonight then. Like old times.”

“A sleepover,” says Ignis, with the slight smile which Noctis has never been sure whether to interpret as joking or contentment.

Noctis throws himself onto the pile of cushions and blankets on the floor, he guesses the original furniture ended up as firewood. He swipes through the unlock screen on his phone, still vaguely impressed that it survived its trip into the Crystal and back, but there’s little to do. No new messages, and it’s apparent that maintaining the King’s Knight servers was not a priority during the apocalypse, nor the reconstruction.

Ignis lowers himself onto a cushion, arranging his long legs on the floor. He sets down before them a scuffed deck of cards, and a stack of shallow boxes.

“Wow, this really is like old times,” says Noctis, sorting through the stack of board games. Ignis must have raided his childhood rooms. “You found Labyrinth?”

“And all the pieces.”

“What else have we got? Ludo… fairy chess… star checkers… ugh, Scrabble.”

“You might do better now you can spell,” Ignis comments, leaning back on one hand. “Well, presumably.”

Noctis ignores him. “Wanna start with some card games?”

“Alright.” Ignis takes the deck and begins shuffling. Noctis finds himself watching those long fingers and smooth movements. He’s never seen Ignis drop a card, and when he sets the deck down, it’s as pristine as one shuffled by machine.

“What did you have in mind, Noct? Poker? Blackjack?”

“Life and Death.”

Ignis hums. “It’s a children’s game, Noct.”

“And these are…?” Noctis gestures to the stack of board games. “Come on, like we used to. Besides, you always win the strategy games.”

Ignis gives the same slight smile. “And yet, I can rarely defeat you in games of chance. Very well then.” He splits the deck with elegant fingers, and sets half in front of Noctis, then reaches for the first card in his own stack.

“Oh, and there’s a penalty for each trick you lose,” Noctis adds.

Ignis raises an eyebrow. “This again. Keep in mind, there are no servants around here for us to prank.” He flips the card to reveal the eight of spades.

Noctis turns over the top card of his own deck, which is the ten of hearts. Fortune _has_ always favored him. Ignis’s face shows no particular disappointment, he merely watches Noctis expectantly.

“Kiss me.”

If there is a flicker of surprise behind Ignis’s eyes, it's gone too fast to tell. He shifts his weight, rolls his shoulders as if stretching, and leans forward.

“You really do intend to make this a reenactment.”

Sitting on the worn floorboards, this Ignis has an air of self-assurance that his younger self had not yet developed. Noctis can still see him, kneeling on the cream carpet, hands balled in his lap, afternoon sun resting on his cheek and glinting on the rim of his glasses. But the present Ignis moves with an almost feline nonchalance, closing the distance, the soft leather of his gloves tracing Noctis’s jawline. The frames of his glasses have been replaced by the slight scars that still rest across his eyes, carving a notch into one eyebrow. Noctis finds himself tracing these features through a thin veil of panic— from this distance, Ignis’s gaze is too intense to meet.  _ Gods, his eyes are green. _

The kiss, when it comes, is just how he remembered and not at all alike. Soft and cautious, as one would hold a captured butterfly in cupped hands. But the hand at his cheek moves to grip the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, possessive and unyielding. He feels the heat of Ignis’s breath as they part.

Ignis settles back into place, wearing that same enigmatic smile, and flips another card. It takes Noctis a moment to realize that he needs to play a card as well.

He takes the second trick, too, and this time Ignis doesn’t ask, but simply gives a glance that asks for approval. Noctis swallows and nods.

It’s deeper this time. Their lips part, and for a moment he feels Ignis’s tongue, teasing. The distance between them has closed, Ignis pushing forward, him leaning backward, the hand on the back of his head helping to support his weight even as it tilts him further off-balance. He knows he must look ruffled this time, when Ignis retreats, hair mussed and cheeks warm, breathing slowed. And now the smile is definitely one of amusement— that and something predatory. Ignis leans in again, and this time his mouth presses against the side of Noctis’s neck. The skin warms as he sucks in, lightly, not enough to mark, but enough that Noctis forgets himself and groans.

That’s apparently Ignis’s cue to stop what he’s doing entirely, and retreat back to his playing cards as though they were a stack of urgent briefings. With measured consideration, he flips the third one over, and this time Noctis remembers to do it at the same time. Noctis’s card is a mere two, while Ignis’s is a queen.

“I suppose I’ll ask you to return the favor,” Ignis says, with an air of satisfaction.

Noctis shuffles closer on hands and knees. It’s been a long time since he did this, and it’s somehow harder this way, when he’s the one who has to initiate. Ignis just seems like he knows what to do naturally, but Noctis’s mind is a mess of questions— are his lips too dry? How fast, and how much pressure? How much tongue can you really use before it gets gross? 

He wonders if Ignis gets nervous.

“If you’d rather, I can give you a different penalty. Such as an agreement to wash the dishes.”

“Shut up,” says Noctis, and kisses him.

It starts off clumsily, but after that, it’s not too hard to follow Ignis’s lead. Follow and keep going, as he leans back onto one hand, as he slings an arm around Noctis’s shoulders and deepens the kiss, as he pulls Noctis into his lap, sighing and shivering when Noctis rolls his hips in closer. They break apart, gasp a breath, and reunite, Ignis pressing up underneath him. The friction is fantastic.

“You know,” he says, casual air slightly ruined by breathlessness, “We do have this place to ourselves for the night…”

Ignis gives his silent smile (Noctis is pretty sure he knows what it means now), and wraps an arm around his waist, rolling them over onto the blanket in a smooth motion. Noctis lets his arm fall back, on top of the already forgotten deck, and the cards scatter across the floor.

**Author's Note:**

> The game they're playing is basically "divide the deck in two, each person flips their top card, the higher card wins that round", which is known by various names including "War", "Battle", "Beggar-My-Neighbor", etc. I borrowed the German name "Tod und Leben". By "star checkers", I mean Chinese checkers, but it seems doubtful they'd use that name in Eos...


End file.
